


Up Too Late

by Lauralot



Series: Alexander Pierce should have died slower [24]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Bed-Wetting, Bees, Diapers, Gen, Guilt, Nightmares, Non-Sexual Age Play, Panic Attacks, Past Abuse, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Self-Hatred, Stuffed Toys
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-01
Updated: 2016-04-01
Packaged: 2018-05-30 11:20:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,336
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6421891
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lauralot/pseuds/Lauralot
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bucky has a sleepover.</p><p>He doesn't get much sleep.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Up Too Late

**Author's Note:**

> This fic was inspired by a suggestion from [WhatEvenAmI.](http://archiveofourown.org/users/WhatEvenAmI/pseuds/WhatEvenAmI)

**The whole point of a sleepover is to stay up too late talking.**

— _Dear Pen Pal_ , Heather Vogel Frederick

In retrospect, a sleepover is probably the worst idea Bucky has ever had.

When he first suggested it to Crystal, it had seemed so safe. Sleepovers, based on what he’s read and seen, mostly involve watching movies and eating snacks and sleeping. And also sometimes trees crashing through the roof, but Bucky’s pretty sure that only happens in Ponyville.

He could handle movies and snacks. And sleeping would limit the amount of time that Bucky could do or say something stupid or creepy that might make Crystal regret hanging out with him in the first place. But a sleepover is inherently longer than having someone over for dinner, or going to a movie, or just hanging out. The longer she’s there, the higher the chance of something going horribly wrong.

He could wake up screaming in the night. Or worse, flail around during a nightmare and hit Crystal. Or he might wake up and accidentally rouse her while he’s slinking off to the bathroom, and then she would _know_. Bucky should never have suggested anything that involved sleeping on that issue alone.

Then again, as the Harry Potter incident recently demonstrated, it’s not like Bucky has to be asleep to lose control of his body. His face burns remembering that.

“Buck,” Steve says. “What are you thinking about?”

Bucky shakes his head, trying to pull himself back to the present before he spends another week sequestered in his room, hiding from everyone. Except the present isn’t much better because Crystal’s going to be here in a little less than two hours and that knowledge makes Bucky so tense that he feels on the verge of another accident.

“Bucky. Breathe like Bruce taught you, okay? Count of ten.”

Bucky breathes. Great. She’s not even _here_ yet and he’s already seconds from a panic attack.

The covers shift beside him as Steve settles down onto the bed. He doesn’t touch him, but Bucky can still feel his eyes. “Hey,” Steve says. “I know you’re scared. I’m sorry, but I’m not going anywhere, okay? You’re not alone, Buck. I’ll stay right here. What’s bothering you? Is it today, or is it something from a long time ago?”

More than once, Bucky’s read up online about dealing with anxiety attacks in the hopes that he could calm himself down without inconveniencing anyone else. He knows that Steve’s saying everything by the book, doing just what the experts advise to keep Bucky from hyperventilating or punching through walls. But he manages to make it sound so _genuine_ , so soothing.

Bucky wonders if it’s something Steve practices when he’s alone.

“Today,” he manages. “Tonight.”

“Can you stand up?”

He can. Of course he can. Bucky tries to ignore the way Steve’s hovering, and how unsteady he feels on his feet.

“Here,” Steve says, and he’s moving past Bucky now, opening the door to his closet. “Can you organize your stuff?”

His breathing evens out once Bucky makes sure all the hangers are facing the same way, but his hands don’t stop trembling until all the shoes are lined up.

“We can put an extra star on your chart for that.” Steve’s settled back down on the bed, watching. “Should I call your doctors?”

“No.” Bucky flushes. He shuts the closet door but doesn’t move back to the bed. Sitting down might make him feel stuck and overwhelmed again; he needs to be able to move around. “I—I’m okay. I’ll be okay.”

“What are you worried might happen tonight?” Steve asks. “Your friend won’t be here for a while. We can come up with plans to fix anything you think might go wrong.”

“I’ll sound stupid,” Bucky blurts out. He sounds more like a whiny child now than he does when he’s actually five, and his face is burning again. “I won’t know what to talk about, and she won’t like being here.”

“But you won’t be alone.” Steve’s hands tense against the bed, like he’s going to stand up and hug Bucky. He stays seated, though. Doesn’t want to crowd Bucky, maybe. Or doesn’t want to remind Bucky just how ridiculous it is that, even after all he’s been through, he can’t handle this without help. “You’ll be with everybody at dinner, remember? And Crystal’s probably going to want to look around at Tony’s lab and all of that.”

Bucky isn’t sure Tony will want them in the lab. The most that Tony’s done to even acknowledge that the sleepover’s happening was to come into Bucky’s room last week and ask if Crystal liked bears.

“She’s okay with them,” Bucky had said, shrugging. “I think bees are her favorite.”

“Now _there’s_ a challenge,” Tony had said. Just like that, he was gone, and Bucky had gone back to reading his sisters’ emails.

“But that’s not the whole time,” Bucky protests now, shaking his head.

“You haven’t had any trouble talking to her at the Toy Box. Or her apartment. Right?”

Intellectually, sure. Bucky knows he’s spoken to her and Judah and Dakota multiple times without fucking things up beyond recognition, even though he’s hidden under tables or in bathrooms or burst into tears from guilt about not immediately disclosing his identity during those conversations. But the part of his brain that doesn’t like logic isn’t going to let facts stand in the way of a perfectly good panic.

If only Natasha were here. She’d know exactly what to say and do during any awkward lull in the conversation. But she’s doing recon to help out an old friend Bucky’s never met, and she’s been gone for two weeks. He’s not even sure if she’s in the country. Or if she’d want to share her little side with a stranger even if she were home.

His stomach gives another unpleasant lurch, thinking about Natasha. The sleepover wasn’t planned until after she left. What if she did want to participate and felt slighted when she learned about it later? What if she thought Bucky was just waiting for her to go and lying by omission again?

“—can come up with a word,” Steve’s saying. “If you feel uncomfortable, and you want it to be more than just the two of you. Can you think of a word you could say, something that would let JARVIS know to tell me you need me?”

“Ice cream.” The words are immediate. It wouldn’t be that strange of a thing to work into conversation somehow, and he can’t eat it, so it’s not something he’s going to suggest without thinking. “Ice cream,” he repeats, because now he’s thinking about Natasha being angry on top of making Crystal hate him and it’s too much.

Steve’s arms are wrapped around him almost before Bucky can even register that he’s gotten off the bed. “Okay,” he says, voice as warm as the hand he’s running down Bucky’s back. “Okay. You say that, and I’ll be right there, I promise. I’ll always be here if you need me, Buck. But tonight’s going to be fine. You’ll have fun. I swear. Crystal likes you and anyway, it’s impossible to have a bad time at an Avengers’ sleepover, right?”

Bucky nods, smiling weakly as he takes a slow breath. “Yeah. Thanks.”

“Anything else you need?” Steve asks.

“I—” That breath comes out in a rush, Bucky’s head hanging down until it nearly rests against Steve’s shoulder. “I’m worried. I—”

“Yeah?”

“Last week.” Bucky’s face flares red again, and he buries it complete against Steve’s shoulder. “In the lab. When Bruce was reading to me. I’m—what if—”

“Oh, Bucky.” Steve hugs tighter, squeezing with both arms now. “It’s okay. We’ll figure something out. It’ll be okay.”

And maybe it would. But just once, Bucky wished that he could fix these things on his own.

*

“And this is Tony’s lab,” Pepper holds open the stairwell door, ushering them inside. Bucky isn’t sure if Pepper’s schedule was naturally clear of meetings today, or if she freed up time to spare Bucky the humiliation of admitting that he _still_ didn’t know exactly what every floor of the tower housed. He doesn’t do a lot of exploring outside of everyone’s living spaces. There are Stark Industries employees in the lower floors of the tower, and Bucky’s never wanted to accidentally run into strangers and have to explain himself. Plus, Bucky Bear might try to eat the strangers.

“Whoa.” Crystal’s phone is in her hands because Pepper said it was all right to take pictures on any floor but the art gallery—some of the paintings can’t be exposed to a camera flash—but she doesn’t raise it up. She’s staring all around the room, mouth hanging slightly open. “Is this where he keeps the Iron Man suits?”

“Not anymore.” Bucky takes advantage of her distraction to tug on the hem of his shirt. It’s long enough to hang down on his thighs, and he knows there was no way Crystal could know what he was wearing, but that doesn’t stop the worrying. Neither does Bucky Bear reminding him of his espionage skills. It’s the first time Bucky’s seen Crystal without hiding his prosthetic, and that makes him feel exposed enough.

“I made him relocate them,” Pepper explains, rolling her eyes. “I don’t know why he ever thought it was a good idea to keep all his weaponized armor right next to a bunch of experimental projects and chemicals. Honestly. It’s like I’m herding cats sometimes.”

“Hey. Whoa.” Tony comes around the corner. There are smudges of grease on his hands and shirt and a dark pair of goggles on the crown of his head. He must have been welding. “Could a _cat_ double our net worth, Pepper? Could a cat defeat The Termite?”

“A can of Raid could defeat a termite, Tony.” That’s Bruce. He’s holding a mug of tea, and he doesn’t have a lab coat or a smock or anything on, so Bucky assumes he was just watching Tony work.

“A cat wouldn’t try to strip during an interview,” Pepper adds.

“One time! It was one time! Fine, next time they let me on the Today Show, I’ll be a cat. I can just drop trou and start licking—”

“This is Crystal Santos,” Pepper interrupts. “Bucky’s friend? I figured you’d enjoy giving her a tour of your workshop. Showing off.”

 _Like a cat,_ Bucky did not say.

“Oh my god,” Crystal says, and her face lights up even more than it did when Steve came with Bucky to the Toy Box. “You’re Bruce Banner! I’m going into physics—theoretical, but I’ve taken nuclear courses—and we talk about your work all the time!” Her hands fumble and she nearly drops her phone before she gives it to Bucky. “Could I please get a picture?”

Tony, to his credit, manages not to visibly sulk when he says, “I’m always up for photo ops too.”

“You might want to wash your hands first,” Pepper says as Bucky shifts Bucky Bear to his left hand, holding up the camera with his right.

“Cats are always clean,” Bucky added, and that made Crystal laugh out loud.

“Cats stand in their own toilets and don’t wash their paws,” Tony counters.

He does stalk off, though, and when he returns, there’s a strange metal thing in his arms, all red and gold.

“Behold the Iron Bee!” Tony says. And it _is_ a bee; Bucky can make out its shape as Tony comes closer. A stuffed bee, judging by the little tufts of fleece that stick out between the armor joints. He’s not sure how Tony got the suit to stay on such thin wings or spindly legs. Bucky has to admit that a cat couldn’t pull that off.

Crystal squeals “ _Thank you!_ ” more than she says it, taking the Iron Bee into her arms and cuddling him as best as a metal-covered toy can be cuddled. Under the lenses in the helmet, the bee’s eyes look sparkling and crystalline. His antennae are twisted red and gold wires that form curlicues at the tips.

Tony looks like the cat that got the cream and Crystal’s beaming. Bucky Bear isn’t sure how he feels about a weaponized bee in the tower, but Bucky can’t keep himself from smiling. Crystal’s having fun. He’s having fun.

For the first time since she got here, Bucky feels sure that the sleepover will be okay.

*

Tony doesn’t keep a hibachi chef on the payroll, but there is a room in the tower with a grill permanently set up, and sometimes, like tonight, he brings a chef in.

Crystal’s sitting on Bucky’s right. Daddy was going to sit on his other side, but that chair’s currently taken up by Clint’s foot. When Pepper had brought Crystal and Bucky to the archery range Tony built inside for Clint, he’d insisted on showing them a special new arrow he was working on, and then he’d hurt himself in the process. So now he has his leg propped up, and Daddy’s on Crystal’s other side instead.

Bucky Bear and Iron Bee are sitting at a side table, sharing a bottle of honey. Bucky Bear isn’t scared of the fire or of the knives that the chef is throwing around. He just doesn’t see why anyone would want to sit near those things.

After they were done with the tour of the tower, they’d gone back to Bucky’s room so that Iron Bee could meet all the Bearvengers. Then they’d managed to save the world three different times before dinner, and even had a ceremony to give out hugs of valor after they stopped the aquatic cat army.

They’d been so busy saving the world that Bucky forgot all about dinner until JARVIS told them that everyone was coming to the table. Bucky had felt a twinge of worry at that; maybe it took time for Crystal to stop being little, and maybe she didn’t want to come to a table full of superheroes when she wasn’t big.

But Crystal doesn’t act like she minds at all. She’s talking to Tony and Bruce about her degree right now, as a kid. And they don’t bat an eye, not even when she stops in the middle of talking about her research to make train noises as the chef pushes a smoking stack of onions around the grill.

Bucky tries to imagine giving an interview about the prosthetics initiative when he’s five. He’d probably die.

Shaking his head, he tries not to think about that. He just watches the chef cracking eggs on his spatula and pretends not to see the little glances Daddy keeps shooting his way, making sure he’s all right.

That’s when Natasha walks in.

Bucky drops an edamame pod onto his lap.

Natasha looks tired, but she doesn’t look as if she’s hiding an injury. Bucky would be able to tell. Even if he missed something, Bucky Bear would know. She’s okay. She’s _home_.

Bucky wants to jump up and hug her. He hasn’t heard from Natasha the whole time she’s been gone; nobody has except maybe for Clint, because it’s not safe. But judging from the way Clint’s trying to haul himself up, he didn’t know that she’d be back today either.

But then Natasha sees Crystal and Bucky freezes.

She’s going to think Bucky invited Crystal over while Natasha was gone on purpose, to keep from sharing a friend. And even if she was okay with that, she’s not going to be okay opening up around somebody she doesn’t know, somebody she didn’t know would be here. Natasha’s going to feel ambushed. She’s going to hate him.

Bucky wants to apologize, but if he opens his mouth, he worries he’ll throw up.

“Sit back down before you hurt yourself,” Natasha says to Clint. “Again, it looks like.” She’s smiling, walking around the table to sit down in the empty seat beside Bucky.

He’s still frozen in place.

From the corner of his eye, Bucky can see Crystal watching Natasha’s movements. She’s smiling too. Of course she is; Black Widow’s really cool. She doesn’t know how unhappy Natasha’s going to be.

Natasha’s settling into her chair, and Clint’s trying to worm his foot onto her lap. She’s chiding him for being reckless, but Bucky doesn’t really hear it. All he can hear is his heart, getting louder and louder.

And then Natasha’s rapping her knuckles against his arm. “Hey,” she says, and Bucky almost spills his water all over himself. “Aren’t you going to introduce me to your friend?”

“I—she—this is Crystal she’s my friend from the Toy Box and I’m sorry I didn’t tell you she was coming—I—we didn’t decide on the date until after you were gone and I didn’t—”

Natasha just ignores the way he’s rambling, leaning around Bucky’s back to offer her hand to Crystal. “Hey,” she says. “I’m Tasha. Are you staying after dinner?”

“Yeah.” And Bucky had thought Crystal looked star struck over Bruce. “Yeah, I’ll be here all night.”

“Cool,” Tasha says. “Bucky talks about you all the time. It’s great to meet you.”

*

When he wakes up, Tasha and Crystal are still sleeping.

Bucky’s sure of that because he spends a whole minute just lying there, not moving, breathing as quietly as he can. And then he spends another minute doing the same thing, because his heart was so loud from his nightmare before that he couldn’t be sure he was hearing them right.

He didn’t cry; there aren’t tears on his face. He didn’t scream either. Crystal would definitely be awake if he had.

But Tasha wouldn’t need a lot of noise to wake up. The Red Room trained her the same way the Soviets trained Bucky: to be on guard even in her sleep. Just a quiet whimper or one ragged breath might wake her up, and she might just be pretending to sleep to keep Bucky from feeling guilty for waking her.

She’s probably already mad at him.

Tasha hadn’t acted mad. Right after dinner, she’d invited Crystal to her room because they hadn’t gone to see it before, since Tasha hadn’t been home. She showed off Red Panda and Mor’du, and Crystal had been practically glowing. Tasha wasn’t like Bucky. She could still go out to fight and save the world. And she was little. That must have been the coolest thing ever for Crystal.

But it was probably the worst thing for Tasha.

She’d never gone to the Toy Box like Daddy did, even though Bucky had asked. She’d never been little in public except the time that Tony took them to FAO Schwarz. And all the employees there had signed non-disclosure acts.

And now Crystal knew, and Crystal had been texting with her girlfriend all night and sending her pictures. Which means Mayling must know, and soon the whole world will know. Which means Tasha will stop talking to Bucky and probably anyone else, and she’ll just become the Black Widow full time and live in a giant spider web in a clock tower or something.

Bucky Bear says that doesn’t even make any sense. Tasha would just change her name and move out, or she’d take over the entire Internet and also Crystal and Mayling’s phones until all the proof was gone, and she’d just glare scarily at anyone who tried to bring it up ever again. Bucky Bear also says that if Tasha didn’t want anyone to know that she’s seven sometimes, then she would have just not played with them. At least, not as Tasha.

Then Bucky Bear adds that Tasha is definitely still asleep and Bucky should go back to bed too.

Except he can’t. He needs to change. Which means carefully worming his way out of the blanket fort and getting into the bathroom without waking up Tasha or Crystal. Or Daddy.

They’re sleeping in Daddy’s living room.

“We should make a blanket fort!” Crystal had said earlier, when they were still in Bucky’s room and Tasha was having Bear Widow lead an expedition to find Iron Bee’s missing honeycombs.

But instead of nodding, all Bucky could think of was the time he’d made a blanket fort with Daddy and then almost cut Daddy’s throat.

It didn’t make any sense. He’s made blanket forts since then. Some of them have even been on his floor. But it was all he could think about, so Bucky forced himself to nod and say, “We could watch movies in it. JARVIS can make a screen. And we can have popcorn or ice cream or anything you want.”

That got Daddy to come up. And then Bucky asked if they could make the fort on his floor.

It seemed safer there. Bucky liked knowing Daddy would just be a room away if anything bad happened. He did worry that they’d be too loud and bother Daddy, but all the stories Tasha and Crystal told after they were done watching _The Book of Life_ and _The Peanuts Movie_ were told in whispers.

They’re going to watch _Steven Universe_ tomorrow before Crystal goes home. She was so surprised that Tasha hasn’t seen it.

Bucky holds Bucky Bear tight as he sneaks away from his sleeping bag. He knows the layout of Daddy’s floor by heart, but it’s still so dark and he doesn’t like the dark anytime, and especially not after nightmares that he can still sort of remember. It had been dark in his dream, too.

He’s opening Daddy’s door as slowly and quietly as he can when he hears it.

It almost sounds like a dog whining. There had been a lot of stray dogs when Bucky still lived in Brooklyn. They used to follow people to their doorsteps and beg for food. But this noise doesn’t sound hungry.

It sounds hurt.

Bucky remembers attack dogs and he throws open the door without even thinking about how a dog would get up to Daddy’s floor or why it would be whining. When he was the Soldier, he used to get chased by guard dogs. One bit him so bad that the medic said she could see bone.

He flips on the light and runs for the bed, only skidding to a halt when he sees that there isn’t a dog.

There’s just Daddy. Daddy’s huddled up on his bed, fingers clenched around his sheets. He’s sweating like he used to when he got fevers. The noise is coming from _him,_ except now Daddy’s sitting up and blinking, and the sound’s stopped.

“Bucky?” he asks. His voice shakes.

“I—” Bucky can’t remember Daddy _ever_ making a noise like that. Not even when other kids beat him up. “I heard—Bucky Bear thought something bad was happening.”

“I’m fine.” Daddy sits up, wiping at his face with his sheet. “Sorry I bothered you, Bucky. And your bear. It was just a dream. You can go back to bed.”

No he can’t. Not after he heard that. Not when Daddy’s hands are still shaking. “What happened?”

“It’s fine,” Daddy insists. “You’re supposed to be having fun. You don’t need to worry about me.”

“I’m supposed to worry about you!” Bucky’s voice raises involuntarily, and he cringes at himself, shuffling backward to shut the door. “That’s what friends do. And Jesus, Steve, you sounded like you were having a heart attack. Has this happened before?”

“Everyone has nightmares.” Steve tugs the blankets out of their crumpled heap, almost hiding beneath them. He looks small, smaller than Bucky ever remembers from before serum.

“That’s a lot of bullshit,” Bucky says. He crosses the room, sitting down on the bed. Bucky Bear gets propped up against the headboard, where he can make see the door and make sure no one tries to sneak in. “Cornelius and Miriam are always trying to help me sleep. Does your doctor know about this?”

“I’ve mentioned it.” Steve’s defensive. Some of the flush had faded from his face, but now the pink is creeping back in. “He knows, Buck. You don’t have to—”

“Does he know that you wake up drenched in sweat?” Bucky counters. “That you sound like you’re _dying_? You’re always telling me to let everybody help. Why can’t I help you?”

“You can’t control my dreams.” Steve won’t even meet his eyes. Usually, when he’s being a stubborn punk, he’s so proud of it. “And you have enough stress in your life, Bucky. It’s not fair for me to—”

“Nothing about our lives is fair.” He puts his hand on Steve’s shoulder, half-comforting and half-holding him there. “You know that. You can’t make it worse for yourself by hiding stuff from me, Steve. I want to help.”

“I’m all right!”

“Not if this is a regular occurrence.”

“Buck, you don’t need to—”

“Do you think I’m too broken to look out for you?”

“No!”

“Then why won’t you talk to me?”

“Because I have dreams about you!” Steve blurts out. He wrenches away, out of Bucky’s grasp, almost falling off the bed. “I dream about the train or I see you stuck in some cage in Russia and it’s my fault! I let you fall! You shouldn’t have to comfort me for failing you. And you shouldn’t have to deal with me dragging up those memories while you’re trying to heal.”

There’s a moment of silence. Steve’s breathing is as ragged as Bucky’s was during his panic attack earlier. Somehow, he doubts asking Steve to organize his art supplies will help.

“You dreamed I was falling?” Bucky asks.

“I’m sorry.” And Steve’s eyes are glimmering with tears. “Buck, I’m so, so sorry. And I know that can never make it up to you, but I don’t know what else to do. It’s my fault HYDRA got you and everything Pierce did and—”

“Shut the fuck up,” Bucky says. He grabs Steve’s arm again, this time with the metal hand, and drags him into a hug. “Steve, _shut up._ No one deserves the blame for the sick shit that Pierce did except him, got it? You did everything you could to save me that day. And if you weren’t around, I’d have either died in Zola’s lab, or I’d have become HYDRA’s puppet that much sooner. So just shut up and get off the cross already.”

He’s pretty sure that if Cornelius and Miriam were here, they’d tell him that’s not how to comfort a panicking person. But Steve stops trying to pull away at least. His breath is hot against Bucky’s neck when he lets it out. “You—you remember the train?”

“Parts. I read the report, Steve. I talked to Peggy. And everything I do remember, everything I’ve seen of your stubborn ass since you got me back? That tells me you did everything you could. And Bucky Bear agrees. Look, I know you can’t help what you dream.” Bucky tries running his hand through Steve’s hair, the way Steve will do for him when he’s crying. He gets sweat on his fingers, and he can’t tell if it makes Steve feel any better. “But you can’t just...you can’t hide everything you’re feeling, Steve. It doesn’t help me to do that. It just makes me feel like I’m more of a burden on you.”

“But you’re not—”

“And _you’re_ not some martyr who deserves to suffer for everything bad that ever happened to me.” Bucky tries to imitate Steve’s Dad voice. “Everything’s screwed up. Me, you, the whole world. Everybody here, at least. But we might feel a little less screwed up if we _talked_ , you know? Or at least maybe we could laugh about it. Or cry. Just. Haven’t we spent enough time alone?”

There’s another stretch of silence. Another shaky breath. “I missed that.”

“You missed me telling you that you’re a dumbass?” Bucky asks. “I can do it more, if you want. I’m not tired.”

Bucky Bear likes this plan.

“Jerk,” Steve says, but he’s laughing, even as he pulls away.

“I mean it, though. You need to tell your doctor about this if you haven’t. You’ve got enough shit to deal with when you’re awake.”

Steve nods. His hair is standing on end where Bucky ruffled it. “I will. But really, you can go back to bed, Buck. I’ll just take a shower and then lie down. I’m fine for now, I swear.”

“Uh.” It’s only now that Steve’s idiocy has been dealt with that Bucky realizes how uncomfortable and cold he is. He shifts on the mattress. “Can I use your bathroom first? Just for a minute, I need to—I—”

“Oh,” Steve says, and the understanding in his voice makes Bucky flush, hiding his face behind his hair. “Oh. God, yeah, go ahead, I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to keep you from—”

“Don’t worry,” Bucky says, bolting up. “Next time I’ll just let you cry until I’m out of the bathroom.”

But he wouldn’t, not really.

*

The thing is, by the time Bucky’s head hits his pillow again, he’s wide awake. Dealing with a panic attack and briefly thinking that a home invasion is in progress will do that to the sleep cycle. It’s hard enough to drift back off after one of his own nightmares, let alone someone else’s.

Bucky takes one hand off of Bucky Bear, digging around in the sleeping bag for his phone. He could just ask JARVIS the time, but that might wake someone else up. Maybe it’ll be close enough to a reasonable hour that Bucky can get up and make breakfast. It doesn’t take a knife to scramble eggs or fry bacon.

The phone lights up. It’s a quarter to four. And he has new text messages.

He’s had the phone on silent since they got in the blanket fort. Bucky couldn’t imagine who’d be calling him in the middle of the night, but on the off chance someone did, he hadn’t wanted to wake Tasha or Crystal up.

The messages are from Tasha.

_I’m not sure how the Soviets ever had you doing espionage, considering you project your emotions all over your face. You don’t have to worry, Bucky. I’m not mad that your friend is here. I wouldn’t have played with you two if I was. Honestly, tonight was nice. Especially after the past couple of weeks I’ve had. Remind me to tell you about them tomorrow._

_You’re brave, Bucky. I would never have had the guts to seek out a community like you did on my own. Even if I had and I made myself set foot in the door, I’d never have made any friends. I can’t open up like you do. I can play a role but any time I show myself to people, I just think of the Red Room. They’d catalogue weaknesses to use against us. And I know this isn’t a weakness, but they never let me be a kid and sometimes it feels like one._

_So I can’t go to some club and let everybody know that I’m seven sometimes. But I could do that with one person that you trusted. And just because you were brave enough to go out there first. Maybe one day, I can do that too. Or maybe it’ll always be private for me. I don’t know. I just know that I’m glad to have another girl to play with sometimes now, so thanks for that._

_Also I talked to Crystal while you were busy brooding, and she agreed not to mention Tasha to anybody. She said she’d never out someone without permission._

_Also also, let Bucky Bear know that Red Panda secretly vetted Iron Bee and says that he’s perfectly trustworthy, just flashy._

The messages were sent right around the time they all lay down to sleep.

Bucky smiles, setting the phone beside his pillow. He hugs tight onto Bucky Bear and tries to drift off again.

**Author's Note:**

> A tree crashing through the roof during a sleepover is a reference to _My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic_ season one episode eight, "Look Before You Sleep." Yes, Bucky has watched MLP. Yes, JARVIS carefully censors any searches Bucky makes about that show. His favorite pony is Applejack.
> 
> The Harry Potter incident refers to one of the interludes for this series, [The Boy Who Lived.](http://archiveofourown.org/works/3705493/chapters/9193231)
> 
> The Termite is an actual and ridiculous Iron Man villain. His power is that his hands can melt through anything he touches, which would be awesome, but he only ever uses said power while running away from Iron Man. Instead of just using it on Iron Man or doing anything else productive. You can read about the Termite and other ridiculous Iron Man villains [in this article](http://www.smosh.com/smosh-pit/articles/iron-man-villains-far-too-embarrassing-be-any-movie).
> 
> I toyed around with the thought of Crystal's cat, Pico de Gato, tagging along for the sleepover, but I figured the kitty might get nervous. So just assume that Mayling stopped by to feed her.
> 
> Check out this awesome APSHDS-inspired fic: [_Dancing on Wire_](http://archiveofourown.org/works/6203452/chapters/14210818) by [just_kiss_already](http://archiveofourown.org/users/just_kiss_already/pseuds/just_kiss_already).
> 
> Also check me out [on Tumblr](http://lauralot89.tumblr.com).

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [Of Mites and Iron Men](https://archiveofourown.org/works/6888526) by [MoiraColleen](https://archiveofourown.org/users/MoiraColleen/pseuds/MoiraColleen)




End file.
